


If I Had the Chance I'd Never Let You Go

by Draco_sollicitus



Series: After EpIX [4]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: And Rey Loves It, Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, Life After War, Love, Poe is Soft, Post Episode IX, Romance, Soft!Poe Dameron, Yavin IV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21930127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draco_sollicitus/pseuds/Draco_sollicitus
Summary: After the war, Poe Dameron returns to Yavin IV for the harvest. It's not the first time he's helped Kes with the harvest, but it's his first time as an adult, and the first time after the war.He's different now, older, and a lot has changed; most importantly, he's found a partner, and she's there with him, there at the first harvest after the war.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Rey
Series: After EpIX [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575733
Comments: 9
Kudos: 151





	If I Had the Chance I'd Never Let You Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aimmyarrowshigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimmyarrowshigh/gifts).



> this is so much fluff (rated T b/c implied sexual relationship and mild sw-style cursing)
> 
> aimmyarrowshigh said she wanted soft PoeRey cuddles, so here we are.

The first harvest after the war feels strange.

It isn’t necessarily strange to walk the Koyo fields and drop his hands to the round, swollen fruit with the gas giant of Yavin hanging overhead; it isn’t strange to wave to his pa when he zips past on the harvester, the bed heavy with the melons. The motions aren’t strange at all, but the lack of urgency surrounding it - that’s what has Poe waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Life on Yavin IV isn’t what it’s ever been: sure, there’s no lingering threat to the galaxy, and Kes has been home for so long now that the pattern of life on the farm was never interrupted by the war. To be fair, the only thing that’s changed is Poe. He remembers, obviously, working on the farm as a child, then a teenager, before he went off to try and save the farm, with poor decisions, then better ones. But the Poe who stands in the field now is not the Poe who ran in them as a child. 

He’s older, for one. More tired. A little worn down, if he’s being honest. Not in the shape he’d been in as a teenager or young man, at the peak of his physical fitness, in his prime; gone are the flashy muscles won through labor and then through careful exercise and if he's being a honest, a little vanity. In their place are the sturdy muscles of an older man, and they hold up the - admittedly softer - frame of a person who sometimes thinks even his bones must be exhausted.

But, his body can still carry him through the fields, and he can still help his pa with the harvest, and as strange as it feels, the first harvest after the war also helps Poe feel like he’s actually come home.

For as little as it’s changed, there are some welcome additions to his home: the temples have been repurposed as part of the plan to train future Jedi -- and with those plans, there comes a certain Jedi Poe’s become more than a little attached to. She spends the first harvest with him, her Padawans not yet arrived as she makes final preparations, and Poe spends every possible moment with her.

Rey Skywalker smiles brighter than Yavin as she walks through the fields. Months ago, her blissful expression the first time she bit into a Koyo had Poe offering to bring her home faster than he could have said  _ Falcon.  _ To his intense surprise, Rey had said yes to his hasty proposition, and now she’s become an even more permanent fixture in his galaxy. In his heart. 

Her hand is soft in his, soft with evenly spaced callouses, when they walk in the fields. Her mouth is soft the first time she lets him kiss her, in a Yavinese rainstorm. Her eyes are soft when he whispers that he loves her - because he can bicker and argue with her loud enough to startle birds from trees, but when he needs to tell her he loves her, he only wants her to hear it, so she understands more clearly that those words are, and always will be, only hers.

He doesn’t have much to give Rey Skywalker in those months after the war, in the months leading up to the first harvest on Yavin IV, but he gives what he has to her, shares it without question. His droid. His home. His heart. Soon, he’ll give her his ring, but after she’s settled more clearly, when she isn’t so tired from preparing the Temple, when she doesn’t feel as much of the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders.

For now, he settles for holding her every night, and he falls asleep hoping to the Force that Rey Skywalker understands just how much of his heart she holds in her calloused, precious hands.

* * *

Poe reads now. It’s a thing. 

Due to years of training for and then fighting a war, Poe never had much time to read for pleasure; military reports, yes. News, yes. Historical accounts of battles, yeah, he had a phase. But he gets to  _ read  _ now, and Poe consumes romance holonovels, fantasy comics, and even some hilariously worded HoloNet fiction about his squadron - he blames Yolo’s artwork - at a rate that would be frankly worrisome if he had much to do in his day besides his main two objectives (help his pa on the farm; and, love Rey Skywalker).

He feels idle, sometimes, to be lying down in bed and reading holonovels, but he enjoys the simplicity of skimming through texts, and doesn’t mind that he feels some of the hardness of his muscles fading away from his sudden lack of training to stay in a cockpit. As much as Poe loves flying - he was made for the air, something he knew long before the Force guided him through Kijimi, the NRDF, and the Resistance - he has a lot more reasons to love being on the ground right now.

For instance, his bed is on the ground. That’s definitely a plus. Poe wonders if it’s greedy to like his bed. Love it, even. It’s comfortable, and he built it himself, and it’s in the safe, cozy extension to the compound he worked on before Rey’s arrival. He shares the space with Rey, and when she comes home every night from the Temple, his bed becomes his favorite place for a whole other reason.

On a normal Centaxday, a week into the harvest, Poe relaxes in bed, his hair damp and curling in the back after a long shower. He’d gone for water this time, and not a sonic - six hours in the field had demanded a real visit to the ‘fresher. Poe can hear the water running still: Rey had slipped in as soon as he had slipped out, and she looked as tired as he felt. 

He hadn’t bothered with a sleep shirt when he got in bed, just hauled a pair of loose pants on and slipped in between the sheets, pulling the covers up to his waist before snagging his holopad and resuming  _ The Count of Canto Bight.  _ Poe’s distantly aware of the water shutting off, but the count is about to reveal himself as the tragic hero from the heroine’s dark past, so he doesn’t look up when Rey exits the ‘fresher.

“Mmm,” Rey mumbles as she digs through the dresser.

“What’s wrong?” Poe puts his thumb on the line he’s on and looks up to see Rey pouting at the dresser, a tan towel wrapped around her slender frame, her hair already half-dried from the ‘fresher vents. 

“I can’t find my …” Rey sighs and then spies his sleep-shirt tossed on the chair in the corner.

“Go ahead,” Poe says, waving his hand at the shirt. “I’m not gonna wear it tonight.”

It’s humid and hot for a harvest night; Poe doesn’t relish the idea of going back out there tomorrow.

Rey hums happily as she wiggles into the shirt; Poe finds the way her body moves a little more interesting than the count’s revelation, so he watches appreciatively until she turns around and catches him staring.

She smirks at him, but Poe only shrugs and returns to his book with a small smile on his face. His cheeks hurt with the effort of not letting it show too much, and Rey traipses over to the bed and lies down next to him. 

Poe lifts his arm automatically, assuming she’s going to tuck her face into his neck and snuggle in for the night, but she’s too low on the bed for that; instead, she rests her head on his stomach with a contented sigh. He freezes a little bit when she does that - his stomach, unlike  _ some  _ people he can name (Finn, Jess, Rey herself) is not defined or impressive to look at it. It’s strong, to be sure, had to have been for him to withstand the g-force of spaceflight, but there’s a fine layer of fat that hadn’t been there ten years ago, back when he was in his early twenties, much like a certain beautiful Jedi..

“Uh,” Poe looks down at Rey, who’s snuggled up to his tummy still. “Hi there.”

“Hi.” Rey turns so her face is completely in her stomach, and then she nuzzles it slowly. “You’re so soft.”

“Gee.” Poe feels his face heat up. “That’s not terribly flattering, Jedi.”

“What?” Rey’s little face is twisted up in genuine confusion when she looks at him, and Poe strokes a hand through her hair, avoiding the bigger tangles, to show her he’s not angry with her or anything. “I mean it. I love that you’re soft.”

“I don’t know if most people would say that,” Poe begins, but Rey rests her cheek against his stomach and smiles at him sweet enough to get him to stop in his tracks.

“You’re soft. And beautiful. And I love you.” Rey curls up into a ball and stays with her head resting on his stomach, and she turns her face to pretend to chomp on his tummy. 

Poe jerks upright a little bit and giggles. “That tickles.”

“Good.” Rey giggles too and presses her face to his stomach more; she nuzzles it quickly, interspersing it with some kisses and bites, and Poe bites his bottom lip and tries to soothe the coil of sudden heat that rises in his gut because as good as  _ that  _ feels, he knows Rey doesn’t want that right now.

“Hey, sweetheart?” Rey looks back up, and Poe runs his fingers through her hair again. “Do you want some snacks? You hungry?”

Rey nods, and Poe grins at her because she’s always hungry, and gods, he loves her. “But.” She wraps an arm around him and places her face against his tummy one last time. “Not right this minute?”

‘’Not right this minute,” Poe agrees in a murmur, carding his fingers through her hair once more, detangling little snarls here and there as gently as he can.

Snacks can wait; the harvest can wait; the entire kriffing galaxy can wait. Poe Dameron, who’s spent so much of his life fighting, who had to fight tooth and nail for a chance at a future for every other lifeform, who learned early the different ways life could be hard, has finally found something soft of his own. 

And he has no intention of letting her go anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading xoxox


End file.
